Heart of a Warrior
by VictorianChik
Summary: After the final fight and Wesley's death, Angel tries to patch his relationship with Nina. Along with Gunn Illyria and Spike, Angel realizes his family has changed once again, including the return of his smartmouth son, Connor. Spanking in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1 A New Awakening

AN: So, I thought I write an _Angel_ fic, just for the fun of it. _Angel_ actually was the show that started it off for me – I started watching it in my first year of college, and then I watched _Smallville_, reruns of _Buffy_, read the Harry Potter books and watched the movies, got into all the superhero genre, and started _Supernatural_, all over the next five years. But _Angel_ will always have a special place in my heart because it was the first sci-fi, fantasy, horror, supernatural show I watched.

That sentimental trip aside, I decided to pick up where the finale left off. I watched it a few months ago, and I've tried to get my facts right, but there may be things I have left off. I always feel a little shaky on my first chapters and it's usually takes to the third or fourth chapter for me to find my groove. So, see if it works for you.

For those of you waiting for my _Supernatural_ story, I am working on it. I wanted to have it be four chapters, but I feel so sad about ending it that I'm taking my time. I've never written anything so short so I may have to do a sequel for it.

But as far as this story goes, it may be long or short – I haven't really decided one way or the other. I'm re-watching _Buffy_ (just for kicks) and I had forgotten how much I love these characters. Just to warn you, I may bring back characters I really liked (that means you, Wesley), but I'll try to keep it as canon as I can.

Spanking in later chapters – sometimes I can't work it into the first chapter, sorry.

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel or any of its characters. I think Joss still does, but I absolutely don't make any money off this.

Very long intro – on with the story.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The smell of burning ash and cement dust woke Angel up. He kept his eyes shut, praying desperately, "Please don't let me be in hell. Please not hell. Not there. Anywhere but there."

He remembered the pain, the never-ending pain that had driven him crazy. People talked about things going on forever – they had no idea what hell was really like.

But that had smelled like fire and sulfur and burning flesh; this just smelled like decay.

So he opened his eyes and sat up.

He was in the middle of an alley. Well, at one time it had been an alley with two tall buildings on either side. Now, the buildings had crumbed or rather their sides had been smashed. Dust floated down from above. Overhead, maybe forty feet up on the third floor, a bed was hanging out of the ruined building, its covers drooping limply over one side like the discarded cape of a superhero. On the other building, pipes had broken, and water sprayed out and dripped down the rumble.

It all reminded Angel of that ride at Universal Studios, FL. He had had seen picture of Earthquake on the Internet, the way the subway broken up on the ride. He had always wanted to go to Universal Studios. And Disney World. He was sure there was something demons about the Small World ride and all those smiling puppets. Too bad the amusement parks weren't open at night. Connor might have liked to go, too. But the happiest place on earth? That didn't seem like a good thing for a vampire, cursed by gypsies to turn evil if he ever experienced true happiness.

Angel shook his head slowly. How hard had he been knocked out to start thinking about Disney World? He stood up, warily. No real injuries that he could see – a few scraps that would heal in the hours, a couple of bruises, nothing broken.

What had happened? Wait, he had been fighting with . . . with . . . a dragon?

Angel stopped and looked up at the smashed buildings. Had the dragon done that? It looked like an enormous dragon could have flown into the buildings. But had he killed it? Had he killed anything else?

He made his way out of the alley. No one could be seen. The streets were deserted.

Just take one thing at a time. What time was it? It was still kind of dark, but getting lighter. Dawn was maybe an hour off. An hour off – wait! He had to get somewhere before the sun came up.

All right, they had been fighting last night, he decided as he began to walk very fast. Had anyone survived. Who had he seen right before the dragon came? Gunn – that was good, Gunn was a survivor. Illyria – she had said the Wesley didn't make it. Damn, Wesley should have made it. Lorne was long gone – Angel doubted he would ever see him again. Lindsey – Lorne had taken care of Lindsey. It was too bad, but Lindsey was past saving. Wolfram and Hart might bring him back, but Angel would deal with that when it happened. Connor had been there. Please let Connor still be alive.

So that was Gunn, Illyria, maybe Connor. Anyone else? Wait, maybe . . . ugh, Spike. Please let Spike had gotten himself killed. Just a stray piece of wood flying through the air, oh look, Spike didn't duck. It got him right in the heart. Surprised look on that sneering face, then fade into ashes.

Angel indulged himself in the fantasy of Spike's death as he moved along.

Or maybe Spike was beheaded. Evil guy swinging an axe through the air, Spike isn't watching where he's going. Spike doesn't duck – oh no, Spike's head goes rolling. Good bye, Spike, no one will miss you.

Or maybe Spike is running, and a demon throws down a lasso rope. Spike doesn't duck, the rope hauls him up into the air and leaves him hanging. Then the sun comes up, and Spike starts burning, screaming until his lungs are turned to dust. Farewell, Spike, I wish I never knew you.

It was much easier to imagine Spike's demise than to speculate on whether or not Connor survived. Angel tried to think of Spike being torture rather than if Connor remembered how to fight after his memories had been tampered with. Did the new Connor remember how to kill different types of demons? Did Connor know how to handle a sword or a gun or a crossbow? Could he fight with his fists, kicking out powerfully enough to maim his opponent? Did Connor know enough to keep himself alive?

No, think of Spike getting beaten, Spike being staked, Spike in pain . . .

"Angel!" a male voice called from a side street.

Angel stopped and whirled around. He had no weapon with him, but he had enough power still in his body to fight if he had to.

Footsteps, and then Gunn rounded the corner. He was holding a bloody knife, and a gun was tucked in his waistband. "Hey," he jogged up. "How'd you make out?"

"I don't know," Angel admitted. "I got knocked out. The last thing I remember was all of us together, about to charge that army."

Gunn whistled. "You don't remember killing all those demons? Man, you were on fire. You just ran in there and started hacking. I'm glad you don't remember, because you made me look like some scared chick in a horror movie. You probably killed twenty or thirty before that dragon snatched you up by its claws. I saw you flying up in the air with it, still hacking at its belly."

Angel searched him memory, the shrugged. "Sorry, don't remember. Do you know what happened to Connor?"

"I saw him later on. He was fighting too, like a maniac. Man, if there was any doubt he was your son, last night proved it once and for all. Ruthless, mean fighter moving really fast. I could have used him back in my old slaying days."

"Illyria?" Angel asked.

"Somewhere around here. She might look like Fred, but that woman can torture like you wouldn't believe. I finally moved over a street so I didn't have to hear the screams."

"Did someone call me?" Illyria stepped from the shadows. Her expression was calm and stoic, unsettling considering that her bluish body was sprayed in red and black blood.

"You kill many?" Angel asked, trying not to sound sarcastic.

She smiled cruelly. "Hell will have to add another dungeon for all the monsters I sent there tonight."

"Cold as ice," Gunn observed about her.

"All right, so that's three of us," Angel noted. "We just need to find Connor, and then I'll hide before the sun comes up. If we move quickly –"

"Ey!" a voice called out. "Not leaving without me, are you, blokes?"

Angel suppressed a groan as Spike came trotting up the street. He was also covered in blood, but that stupid blond hair was still slicked back and perfect.

"Glad to see me?" Spike grinned.

"So you didn't manage to get yourself staked or beheaded or otherwise killed?" Angel asked dryly.

"No, mate, almost did though. This huge bloke came at me with a silver blade, nearly got me across the neck. But I ducked. Then he tried to get my in the heart, so I ducked again. Then I killed him."

"Lucky us," Angel observed. "Well, you're all right, and we're all right, so good bye."

"Nothing doing," Spike shook his head. "I'm one of you, now, and I say we find the little spawn of your loins and get the hell out of here before the sun comes up."

"Or you could stay and see if you like the sunlight," Angel muttered, but they had all began walking down the street.

"Connor?" he called out.

"Connor?" Gunn yelled. "Hey, kid, where are you?"

"Connor, you come now!" Illyria demanded.

"Demon child!" Spike called out obnoxiously. "Hell spawn, Daddy's looking for you. All freaky offspring, return to the father demon immediately!"

"Shut up," Angel ordered, glaring at him.

"Just in case he got himself turned into something big and nasty while he was fighting and doesn't recognize his own name," Spike shrugged. "He's your kid after all, so I expect him to become a puppet, you know."

"Spike," Angel growled, but Gunn interrupted him.

"Hey, blond chick coming this way."

Angel glanced down the street, and a small smile showed on his face. "Nina."

Nina ran up, panting and brushing back her hair with shaky hand. "Hello."

Angel wanted to feel happy, but he was also annoyed and he decided to give in to that feeling. "I thought I told you to get out of town."

"And when have I started listening to you?" she challenged. "I sent them on ahead. Full moon last night, you know. I awoke in a pile of bodies, all bearing wolf bites, all dead. I knew I would find you here, fresh from the fight. Isn't it getting a little light for you boys to be out?"

"I'll stay out long as I like," Spike smarted off, swaggering as he walked. "No one tells me to go in, not while I'm wearing this here coat and got me bloody fangs intact."

"You killed that many, but missed him?" Angel said aside to Nina. "If you cared about me at all, you would have killed him."

"Sorry, next time. Where are we going?" Nina asked as they stepped over more rubble on the street.

Angel glanced at her, ready to tell her that she didn't belong with them. But as he looked around, he realized that they weren't the most normal of groups. Two vampires with souls (though one with a very dumb hairstyle), an ancient goddess in the body of their dead friend, and a demon hunter brainwashed with the mind of a lawyer, all looking for the son of two vampires. A woman-turned-werewolf should fit in just fine.

"We got to find a place to stay, anywhere out of the light," Angel told her. "Tonight, once the sun goes down, we can look for somewhere permanent. Wolfram and Hart collapsed, but they're sure to rebuild. I'm still the CEO, even if I did organize a hit on some of its most powerful clients."

"Ooo, boss man wants to be all in charge," Spike noted scathingly. "I say we get out of LA and go somewhere a little more vamp friendly, like Rome or Florence. Eh? Take in a few paintings, meet a few Italian dolls, you do the big, bad brooding, I drink the fresh wine? Maybe look up Buffy again, and kick the Immortal in the ass for old times' sake. Yeah?"

"I'm staying in LA," Angel told him. "But feel free to jump across the pond, and roam all over Europe."

"Not if you're staying here," Spike retorted. "I leave, and then suddenly you'll be made the king or something, and then I'll come back as a nobody while they're worshiping you. Nothing doing."

Gunn and Illyria had fallen back a step, and she was talking to her in her usual cold, strong voice.

"I do not understand," she admitted to him. "I am feeling sorry for those innocent who died, Wesley the most. I am feeling pain and hurt for him, something I have never felt, not this strongly. But Wesley was your friend, and theirs, but they are arguing about who gets to be king. I thought this was a war to stop evil, not to decide who will be king. If we are putting in bids for king, I want to be the empress, in power again, and I will squash them like little bugs."

"No," Gunn told her, smiling a little at her serious expression. "They're just fighting because they're glad no one else got killed. Back when I fought on the streets with the gangs, we'd slap each other on the back and do the old homeboy handshake, and that'd be all. But these vampires, they don't know how to do anything right."

"I'm just saying," Angel said loudly "if you want to go to Europe, no one's stopping you!"

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Spike challenged. "Me just taking off and letting you have your little power trip here? Bugger that, I'm staying here."

"Then stay here!" Angel nearly yelled.

"Not like that, I won't," Spike decided.

"Connor!" Angel bellowed, his voice resounding off the broken buildings.

"Angel?" a voice called from down a side street.

"Connor" Angel took off at a run. He rounded the corner, and there was Connor, standing there, holding a broken battleaxe. Angel didn't even stop to think; he ran right up to his son and wrapped in a hug, glad to feel the boy's whole body, and not see him lying in pieces in a gutter.

"Angel, you mind?" Connor said awkwardly, trying to squirm away and look cool.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Angel pulled back, but held onto Connor's shoulders, glancing him over. "Nothing broken, nothing bleeding?"

"I got a few scratches," Connor admitted with a shrug. "Nothing serious."

"How not serious?" Angel demanded. "Where are you cut? Is it your stomach?" He noticed small bloodstains on the side of Connor's shirt, and immediately, he tried to lift the shirt to see the damage, sure he would see half of Connor's guts hanging out.

"No," Connor twisted away, trying to pull his shirt away from Angel. "I'm fine. Leave me alone."

"Did you call your family?" Angel demanded yet, almost satisfied that Connor was basically all right though he would have rather seen for himself.

"Yeah, about that –"

"Connor, you have to call your family, and let them know you're all right," Angel insisted, feeling frustrated all ready. It was crazy how he could feel so exasperated with Connor so quickly. "Half of LA was destroyed – they will be worried sick, freaking out about where you are.

"I – uh, kind of changed that," Connor admitted.

"Changed what?" Angel said slowly, eyeing the boy suspiciously.

"I went to – um, Wolfram and Hart while you were fighting," Connor admitted. "To the higher Powers, thinking I could talk them for a while so you could get stuff done."

"So you just wanted to distract them for a while?" Angel said. He knew the others had come up behind him, but they were keeping their distance, knowing Angel would want a few private words with his son.

"Yeah, that too," Connor confessed. "But I also needed something, so I went there and – and . . ."

"Connor, what did you do?" Angel interrupted the boy's stammering.

"I had them change it," Connor admitted. "I had them change me back."

"What?" Angel's eyes were wide and hard.

"My other family, the fake one, they don't exist anymore. Well, they do, but they don't know me. I'm not a part of their family anymore. I still remember a little, but the powers erased that life so now . . ." Connor shrugged.

His casual attitude annoyed Angel almost as much what he had done. "You got them to erase it? After I went through so much trouble to give you a real family, a second chance, tampered with everyone's memories – you erased it?"

"Yeah, kind of," Connor gave him an awkward smile.

Angel grabbed him by the arm, making him drop the battleaxe. "Well, we are going right back there to change it back."

"No," Connor objected.

"I am not having you erase anything," Angel decided. "I made the right choice for you – you need that family."

"Fake family!" Connor protested.

"Doesn't matter," Angel was adamant. "They can do more for you than I ever could. We'll go back, and I'll get them to change it."

Connor put on his usual stubborn look, his mouth set in a determined scowl. But then he relaxed and gave another shrug. "You can try, but they won't do it. Towards the end of the whole process, they got wind of what you were doing, and they weren't happy. You're still CEO, but they're through giving out favors."

Angel took angry steps away, then whirled around to glare at his son. "Why? Why would you do this?"

"Here is comes," Spike confided in a loud whisper to Nina. "The crying and the hugging and the father/son drama that just about makes you want to throw up."

Nina gave him a disapproving look, pursing her lips together, and Spike glanced her over again.

"You're not bad, doll. Fancy a real man instead of that brooding Nancy boy?"

Angel heard, but he didn't care as he watched Connor.

"I want to be real," Connor decided, almost shamefaced. "I want everyone to know the truth – no more lies. I understand what happened and why you did it, but I'm different now. I don't want to kill you, and I can see what happened with my other father much more clearly than when I was in the middle of everything. I'm not the same person that tied those people up with that bomb or slept with Cordy or dumped you to the bottom of the ocean. This is just me – Connor. And I want to be real."

"Ah, Angel," Spike mocked, "here that? He wants to be a real boy."

"But the Powers," Angel ignored Spike, "they made a deal with me. I sign a contract as CEO, you get a better life. How could they go back on their deal?"

"I sort of told them that I would make a new deal," Connor looked down at the pavement, starting to shift nervously.

"Connor," Angel's voice was deadly quietly, "what did you do?"

"I made a deal about me, no one else," Connor began, but Angel looked absolutely furious.

"Connor, right this minute!" he barked at his son.

"If they changed everything back, erased my family, I get to be Wolfram and Hart's junior executive," Connor blurted out.

"Huh?" Spike raised an eyebrow.

"What does that mean?" Illyria demanded from Gunn.

"You signed a contrast with Wolfram and Hart to work for them?" Angel said ominously.

"Yeah, that means –" Connor gave a high-pitched, nervous little laugh – "you're my new boss."

Silence fell over the group. Spike, never one to keep quiet too long, finally broke it. "Does that mean you get to drive the nice cars, too? Because I still want the '65 Mustang. What you say? I'll drink you for it."


	2. Chapter 2 A New Arrangement

AN: Well, finally got back to this story. I'm still watching _Buffy_ so I decided to get this another go. Grad school has wound down for a month, so I have lots of time to write.

Disclaimer: I don't own, make any money, receive any credit, praise, or recognition for any of it.

Warning: This chapter does include spanking of a teeanger. If you don't like it, please don't read or review. I remind you that you don't want to hear my rant about how I don't read or review fanfic that bothers me. So if you think this isn't your thing, go away. Other than that, bring on the feedback and tell me how to make it better.

On a side note – I hope Nina's IC. I realized she was only in three or four episodes, but I think a hero always needs a leading lady. Since Cordy's dead, Fred's body is taken by Illyria, Darla staked herself, Buffy's in Europe, and I never liked Dru, nina will have to do.

Thanks for reading!

----------------------------------------------

As Connor stood there, looking both defiant and sheepish in a way only a teenager could, Angel struggled to rein in his temper. Connor never did very well with direct orders or threats or angry words, and Angel doubted that his scolding Connor in front of everyone else would help things anyway.

"We'll talk about this later," Angel said shortly in a tone that was both a warning and a promise.

"We always do," Connor muttered, but he glanced away when Angel shot him a stern look.

"Okay," Angel stepped back, "so that makes Connor, Gunn, Illyria, Nina, and me."

"And me," Spike spoke up.

"And Spike," Angel added reluctantly. "We need shade soon – the sun will be strong in less than an hour."

"The sewers?" Gunn suggested.

"Ugh," Nina made a face before she could stop herself. "Sorry, it's just the sewers?"

"I think we should steal someone's home," Illyria said in a strong voice. "Someone who has died in the fight tonight."

"Could we hide in a car or a van?" Nina said, ignoring Illyria. Angel already had the sinking feeling that she did not like the blue-tinged ex-goddess. "Something we could move around in case they come after us?"

"I say we go crash a hotel," Spike announced. "Everyone will be worrying about the whole battle scene, and we can just waltz right in, snag us a few suites, and then goodbye sun, hello martinis and pay-per view."

Everyone waited, watching Angel for some kind of indication what he thought. It was nice, he mused as he glanced over all of them, to be their leader. Sure, he had tons to worry about between Connor and Nina and Spike's pestering, but it felt good, really good to stand his ground again with just the few of them, and not worry about running a huge lawyer firm. Though it sounded like Wolfram and Hart were about to make a comeback.

"Spike is right," Angel sighed, hating to ever admit that Spike could be right. "A hotel will do for tonight."

Gunn lifted his head. "We got any money?"

Angel smiled slightly, hearing Gunn's street side coming back over the programmed lawyer. "I got some," Angel nodded.

"How much?" Spike craned his neck to get a look at Angel's pocket. "Enough to buy me some cigs?"

"No smoking," Angel ordered, with a side look at Connor. "And no more talking, either. We find a hotel now."

The sun had just began to tip around the tall buildings, making Angel and Spike crouch against the walls to avoid the light. Nina and Illyria fought for a space to walk beside Angel, each deeming herself the hero's companion.

"Move over," Nina snapped at one point.

"I was here first," Illyria retorted.

"Maybe, but I'm dating him," Nina thrust a finger towards Angel.

"Ooh, catfight," Spike grinned, nudging Connor with his elbow. "Who you rooting on to get old Daddy?"

"Spike," Angel growled.

"Oh, all right," Spike shrugged. "Don't get your knickers in a twist. You can have them both."

Angel grabbed Nina's arm and pulled her forward with him. "Illyria, you guard the rear with Gunn."

Nina shot a triumphant smile over her shoulder at Illyria before Angel started forward again.

They found a hotel on the next street. At first, it looked empty, but as soon as they entered the lobby, a flustered-looking woman came running up.

"What's going on?" she demanded breathlessly. "I've been working all night, but the morning manager never came in. I've tried to watch the news, but most of the channels are down. There was some crazy news report about gangs rising up and attacking different parts of LA."

"Yeah," Gunn commented sarcastically, "gangs. That's what it was."

"You're covered with blood," the manager noticed. "Were you in a car accident? Are you all right? And is that woman blue?"

"Uh, costume party," Angel told her, unable to think of anything to say to explain what was really going on. "It got a little out of hand. And we didn't see anything, but we need some rooms."

"Oh, fine," she sighed and headed for the reception counter to look at her computer. "Crazy town, always something going on. How many rooms?"

Angel considered for a second, but Connor stepped forward impulsively and asked, "Does Wolfram and Hart have any suites here?"

Angel turned to Connor to rebuke him, but the manager nodded, "Yes, they do have three suites reserved for out of town clients? They haven't called – are you their clients?"

"We work for them," Angel pulled a card out of his pocket and dropped it on the table.

The manager glanced down at it, then she came up with a dazzling smile. "Oh, you're Mr. Angel, the CEO. Welcome, sir. We are so glad to serve you. Will that be all three suites? Each suite comes with two beds."

"Yeah," Angel exhaled a tight breath, relieved that no further questions would be asked.

"Just one moment," she began typing onto the keyboard.

"Gunn, you're with Illyria. Nina, I guess you go with Connor, and I'll be with Spike," Angel said.

"I could room with Spike," Connor objected.

"Nothing doing," Spike protested to Angel. "I want Nina. You stay with your lil' runt and let me cozy up with the werewolf."

"I'm not little," Connor told him.

Nina gave Spike a look that said he better watch his distance.

"Look, we aren't on vacation," Angel snapped. "We go to our rooms, clean up, get some sleep, meet back together when the sun goes down."

"Fine," Connor huffed, and Spike looked mutinous, but said nothing.

In spite of the world almost ending ten hours ago, the hotel suites were all very clean and expensive looking. Angel found a first aid kit in the bathroom and he tucked a tube of antibiotic cream and large Band-Aids into his pocket.

"Sweet," Spike remarked, ready to jump on the bed.

Angel grabbed him by the arm before he could move. "Wash up first. Then sleep."

"Fine," Spike muttered, getting up and heading towards the bathroom. "Hope you don't mind if I use all the shampoo. Doesn't matter – nothing could make that Nancy-boy mess on your head look any better."

"Go," Angel ordered.

He went out into the hall and tapped on the door of Gunn's room. Gunn answered the door, looking worn out.

"Why'd you put me with her?" Gunn demanded. "She's going around, touching everything and asking what it's used for. I don't remember her being this weird at the office. You should have put her with Nina and let me bunk with the kid."

"They would have ended up fighting," Angel told him, keeping his voice down. "I don't want Nina getting hurt or Illyria breaking things in the room. She's upset over Wesley – see if you can get her to sleep."

"You owe me," Gunn said.

Angel did not quite agree, but considering he felt too tired to stand around arguing, he just nodded. Gunn closed the door, saying, "All right, ex-goddess, you know how to turn on the shower? No, don't put your hand down the toilet!"

Angel hurried over to Nina's room and knocked. She opened the door, and a smile spread over her face as she saw him.

"Where's Connor?" Angel asked, stepping into the room and letting her shut the door softly.

"In the bathroom," Nina nodded towards the closed door. "He didn't say anything, just started the shower. I'm so glad you're all right." She leaned forward to kiss his lower jaw very gently. Then she moved down his neck, planting soft kisses down towards his collarbone.

"Nina," Angel breathed in something between a gasp and a sigh. "No, stop. We can't. Not now."

"I was so worried about you," she confessed, brushing back his dirty hair. "But you're safe now. Just let me be with you."

"No," he caught her hand. "Not now. I want you to get some sleep. Later we can talk. But for now, you rest."

Her eyes shadowed, but he could see the weariness written all over her face. "You're right," she drew back.

Just in time too, because Connor came out of the bathroom, with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He blinked, stopping short.

"Sorry I took so long," the words slipped from his lips as he watched Angel and Nina.

"No problem," Nina whispered. She edged past Connor and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her with a firm click.

"What's wrong?" Connor asked.

"Nothing," Angel told him. "Turn around."

"Why?" Connor looked suspicious.

"I want a look at cuts on your back, so turn."

"No," Connor shook his head, "I can take care of myself."

"Just do it," Angel said shortly.

"No," Connor replied.

The frustration returned, born of a long night of fighting and early morning warning. Angel knew it was building up inside him, gathering more power and fury. He felt so upset with Connor – upset and worried and scared for his son. He remembered that awful feeling when Connor had gone crazy last year and tied those people up with the explosives.

"Connor, show me your back," Angel demanded in low voice. "I'm not having you get infected. When I made the deal with the Powers, they took away some of your strength, and that might have included your fast healing."

"So what?" Connor challenged. "You made that decision without asking me – enjoy the results. Now, get out and let me dress." He jerked his head towards the folded pair of pajamas that the hotel had supplied.

"Connor, last chance," Angel warned, crossing his arms over his chest.

That was not a good sign. Connor remembered when Angel had done that before, and it usually meant Angel would not bend, that stupid stubbornness of his showing on his face.

"No," Connor replied, wishing he could have gotten dressed before starting to argue with Angel.

"Fine," Angel faked turning away and then jumped forward to grab Connor's upper arm. His grip like iron around the teen's arm, he dragged Connor towards the bed.

Had he been wearing pajamas, Connor thought he could have put up a better fight, maybe even landed a few punches. But Angel had one arm in a vice-like pinch, and Connor had to use the other to hold up his towel, and they reached the edge of the bed before Connor could blink.

Still gripping his son, Angel sat down on the bed. He gave Connor one stern, knowing look and then proceeded to pull Connor across his lap, face-down.

"Angel?" Connor gasped, trying to hold up his towel and keep himself from tipping forward too far.

Angel anchored Connor to his lap with his left hand. "That's _Dad_ to you now. And you listen when I talk to you. I'm going to clean up your cuts one way or another, but you can decide right now whether you want a spanking first or not?"

"No!" Connor bellowed, trying to twist off his father's lap while holding onto the towel. "You can't! I'm too old for that. My other dad never spanked me!"

"Which one?" Angel couldn't help being sarcastic. "So are you going to obey me or not, Connor?"

"I don't need help!" Connor protested, wriggling his entire body in protest.

"Your choice," Angel sighed in resignation. He put his fingers under the edge of the towel and tugged it down, far enough to expose Connor's rear end.

"Stop it!" Connor cried out. "Don't – Nina's in the next room. She'll hear."

"I hope so," Angel scowled, using both hands to keep Connor in place. "Because I doubt this will be the only time I have to do this."

"What?" came Connor's shaky voice.

"You wanted to start over, right? Well, I screwed up so badly last time, that I'm going to be extra careful this time. I tried to treat you like a friend instead of my son. That changes now – you are my son, and you can think of me as a very stern, very firm father because that's all I'll be you for the next few years."

"Years?" Connor gasped in dismay.

"Yes, I'm not repeating the same mistakes. I'm not having you hurt people or sleep around with women or dropping me to the bottom of the ocean."

"I was confused," Connor protested. "I know better now."

"You'll know better all right," Angel promised. Holding Connor with his left hand, he raised up his right and brought it smack down on Connor's bare bottom.

"Ow!" Connor jerked. "Come on, Angel, please!"

"That's right," Angel agreed, "you keep up that attitude and maybe I won't have to do this as often." He brought his hand down again and again, the smacking sounds loud in the quiet room.

"You can't spank me," Connor told him, though his voice sounded weak. "No one spanks kids any more – ow!"

"Then I'm no one," Angel retorted. "So you stay still and maybe I won't have to do this again after I dress your wounds."

"My wounds!" Connor yelled as the spanking continued. "Yeah, you're hurting me. You're going to make the cuts worse."

"Ha," Angel said scornfully. "I can see the scratches on your back, and they aren't bleeding anymore."

"So you're spanking me because I won't let you clean cuts that don't need cleaning?" Connor was outraged.

Angel paused in his swats just to force himself not to smile. The boy could make a good argument even in the middle of a punishment. He would make a great lawyer – no wonder he convinced the heads of Wolfram and Hart to let him take the job and erase his fake family. The reminder of the boy's foolishness spurred Angel to start spanking again, and this time he made his swats harder and firmer, turning Connor's poor bottom very pink.

"Ow – stop!" Connors yelled, blinking back tears. "Please stop. I'm sorry. Oww! I'll what you want – anything!"

"And what is it I want?" Angel asked, just to see what the boy would say.

"I'll listen to you," Connor rushed the words out. "I'll be good and obey you. I won't talk back. I swear – I'll be good."

Angel snorted, the sound coming out between loud smacks. "You be good – that will be the day. I see you fighting me everyday, just like I fought my father, and he probably fought his father. But thanks to you, we'll be fighting at home _and_ at work now."

"You don't want to work with me?" Connor sniffed, and Angel could smell the tears. But he didn't ease up his spanking.

"I don't want you to go crazy. I want you to behave and get along with other people and not lie and obey me and reach your twenty-first birthday. And if I have to pull you over my knee everyday to accomplish that, so be it. I am done being your pal or your buddy or whatever slang you kids use. I – am – your – fa – ther," Angel brought his hand down on each syllable, "and – you – will – obey – me."

"I will!" Connor howled. "I promise!"

Angel felt a surge of power coupled with satisfaction. He felt better than he had felt in months now he had gotten through to his son, but he did not stop yet. Connor had to know the law now, know there could be no going back.

However, Angel's vampire senses tingles, making him look up, and he saw Nina standing there, wrapped in a large towel with her wet hair streaming down her shoulders.

Connor looked up, and his eyes went wide with horror at Nina seeing him bare-bottom over Angel's lap.

"Nina," Angel said quietly, yet firmly before she could speak, "please go back into the bathroom until I finish with Connor. Thank you."

She opened her mouth to say something, seeming very flustered and confused, but she whirled around abruptly and went back into the bathroom, shutting the door.

"You let her hear," Connor exploded, twisting frantically to get off Angel's knees. "How could you?"

"You think we're done here?" Angel asked wryly. "Not yet."

He brought his hand down, relishing the sharp sound it made. A part of him reminded him that he shouldn't enjoy any human's pain, but blast it, this boy had put him through hell, not to mention trying to send him there. And Angel was not about to start off on the train wreck that their relationship had taken last time.

"I promise!" Connor bellowed. "Anything you want, I'll do it."

"I want a 'Yes, sir' out of your mouth," Angel told him.

"Yes, sir! Yes, sir!" Connor yelped.

Another swat, and Angel said, "And you will call me _Dad_."

"Yes, Dad, I will," Connor promised between sobs.

"And I love you," Angel gave him one last tremendous spank.

"I love you, I love you," Connor wept, not realizing that Angel was telling him the last bit, not asking him to repeat it.

"That's right," Angel played along. He grabbed Connor and swung him to his feet, thankful he had vampire strength as the boy had grown another inch in the last year.

Connor grabbed at his towel, trying desperately to keep some modesty.

"Whatever," Angel rolled his eyes. "Two years ago I was changing your diapers and bathing you in the kitchen sink."

"More than two years ago," Connor wiped at his eyes with his free hand.

"Fine, more than that, but now by much in our time," Angel stood up and placed both hands on his son's bare shoulders. He thought about hugging his son, but decided to wait until the boy initiated a hug himself rather than force it on Connor. So instead, Angel settled for gruff sternness. "Connor, I want you to understand what just happened here. This is not about me wanting to hurt you. This is not about me seeking revenge for the whole coffin-in-the-ocean thing. It's not about Holtz or Cordy, no!" Angel shook his head, seeing Connor ready to object. "This is you and me, Connor, and I'm telling you right now that you are going to obey me as your new boss, the group leader, and your father. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Connor nodded, still blinking back tears.

"You have thirty seconds to get dressed and get into bed or else. Starting now," Angel turned away. With his keen hearing, Angel heard Connor suck in a shaky breath and drop the towel as he rushed to get his pajamas on. A hint of smile played on Angel's lips, but on the dot of thirty seconds, Angel turned around with a stoic face.

His cheeks flushed and eyes red-rim and teary, Connor looked about eight years old. He made a movement towards the bed, then hesitated, glancing towards Angel.

"Lay down," Angel told him. He waited until Connor settled on the bed, face-down, before pulling up Connor's shirt to check his cuts. Angel squeezed a little cream out the tube from his pocket and applied it liberally to the scratches.

Connor hissed, but stayed still. Angel placed Band-Aids over the deeper cuts before pulling the pajama top back down. Connor didn't move so Angel pulled up the sheet and thin comforter, covering up the teen.

Connor put his hands under the pillow, turning to watch Angel with a very sad face.

Angel sighed and sat down on the bed beside him. "Oh, Connor," he ran his hand over the boy's light brown hair that hung in damp clumps, "I can't believe you're back. I worried about you so much this past year, kept wanting to check up on you at college. I was so scared that you would find me, but I couldn't leave you. You'll always be my boy, my son, my little Connor."

As he talked, Angel brushed back Connor's hair from his face, smoothing the hair and tucking it behind Connor's ear. Connor watched him with tired eyes framed by wet lashes.

"Get some rest," Angel stood up, stooping to kiss Connor on the forehead. As he straightened, he heard Connor exhale, almost giving a tired sob.

"You stay in bed and sleep until I come get you," Angel told him. "No wandering off, and no sneaking around."

Connor made no reply, and Angel guessed he was already half asleep. Angel walked quietly towards the bathroom, planning to tap on the door. It opened before he could knock, and Nina pulled him into the bathroom.

"What was that?" she hissed, careful to shut the door quietly.

"Something I had to get out of the way with Connor," Angel explained patiently. "He's been asking for it for a long time, believe me. You couldn't imagine some of the things that kid's tried. I am not going to let him hurt himself, not again."

Nina watched him, anger clouding her eyes for a few seconds. Then she relented and leaned her head onto Angel's shoulder.

"I'm scared," she whispered. "You went face to face with something big last night. Connor made a deal with Wolfram and Hart. And we're using their hotel rooms. What if they come after us?"

"I'll protect you," Angel told her, then grinned sheepishly. "Did that sound as cliché as I think?"

"Yeah, but coming from the man that just spanked his teenage son, I'll let your chauvinist attitude stand."

"Get some sleep," Angel pulled her in for a quick kiss.

She let him kiss her, then pulled back with a grin.

"What?" Angel asked.

"You smell awful," Nina giggled. "Go get cleaned up."

He shook his head at her, then slipped out of her hotel room.

He found Spike sitting on one bed, a towel wrapped around his waist, and watching a soap opera on TV. Seeing Angel, Spike grabbed the remote and muted the TV. "You take the tyke over your knee? What? The walls aren't that thick, and hello? Vampire hearing."

"Put some clothes on," Angel ordered as he headed for the bathroom.

"Ooo," Spike sneered as he turned up the volume on the TV, "the big bad wolf thinks he's going to scare the lil' piggies. But we're not scared."

"Shut up, Spike," Angel said from inside the bathroom.

"Bugger that," Spike grinned as he went back to watching the couple making out on the screen.

No question about it – they were all going to have a great time, vampire father and demon child and all.


	3. Chapter 3 A New Woman

Yes, another chapter. Thank you all for the terrific reviews and support. You rock my world!

Still do not own or make any money.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Connor cracked open an eye. He didn't understand why he was lying on his stomach with his face smushed into his pillow. He never slept on his stomach, but always on his back. And the lights shining around the edges of the window – it was definitely afternoon, almost evening.

Connor rolled to his side and then immediately rolled back with a whimper. Ow, his backside was sore. Had he been in a fight? No, there had been that crazy fight, but he hadn't been hurt, and he had found Angel, who –

Connor felt his face flush red as the memory of the morning rushed over him. Angel had – had, well, he had done the s-word to Connor, the five letter s-word that Connor hoped to never hear again, much less experience.

"Are you awake?" he heard a female voice ask softly.

Connor turned his head farther to the side. Nina was sitting on the edge of her bed, watching him with concerned eyes. Connor felt his face turn redder and redder, and he didn't know whether to bury his head in his pillow or get up and pretend nothing had happened. He did neither, just watched Nina in uncomfortable silence.

"You slept for a long time," Nina commented to stop the silence.

"Did I?" Connor asked, not really caring, but wanting to keep the talking going.

"Yes. Uh, nearly seven hours. You were very still."

"Was I?" Connor felt absolutely stupid.

"Yes, it surprised me."

"Why?"

"Because Angel . . ." she trailed off uncertainly.

"It didn't hurt that much," Connor stammered once he found his voice.

"No, not that," Nina said hastily. "Angel sleeps differently – he moves a little more. Shifts his arms . . ." Nina trailed off again. She was blushing, realizing that any teenage son did not want to hear a woman talking about the sleeping habits of his father.

"He probably does," Connor said blankly.

"Must be something you got from your mother," Nina faltered. "The whole still sleeping thing."

"My mother was a vampire, too," Connor stated.

"Oh, it runs in the family," Nina said before she could think. Then the absurdity of her statement hit her – she knew how vampires were sired. Angel had told her quite a bit about his grief over killing his family; even after two-hundred-odd years, he still missed them.

"This is silly," she decided standing up. She was dressed in clean clothes – dark jeans, a blue shirt, and tan leather shoes. "I don't know that much about you, except how much Angel loves you. I saw what he did to you this morning –"

Connor looked away, his ears blood-red.

"- But it doesn't matter," Nina continued. "I mean, well, it does matter, to you, I'm sure. But I think it's something that needs to stay between you and your father. I will say just one thing."

"What?" Connor asked still not moving from his bed.

She stood up and took a step towards him. "If you ever try to kill your father like you did last year, I will tear you apart. You may have super strength, little boy, but I turn into a monster three nights out of the months."

Her eyes flashed with intensity, and Connor found himself gulping nervously.

"Do you understand?" Nina asked, still staring down at him.

"I won't hurt Angel."

"Oh, you'll hurt him," Nina said frankly. "You'll yell at him, and you'll fight like every other blasted father and son on the planet, but once you cross that line and try to hurt him, I'll be waiting."

She turned away from him and walked towards the door.

Connor flopped back down on the bed, hugging the pillow tight under his head. Well, that would be one woman he would never hook up with. Cordy had liked Angel but she had slept with Connor, but she had kind of been possessed then so maybe . . .

Connor hugged the pillow tighter, squeezing it under his hands. He had not liked the way Nina looked down at him, that no-nonsense tone she used. He had a very glum feeling that she would never be the one to coax Angel towards leniency. Cordy would have, and Fred might have urged Angel to give his son a break every now and then, but Nina – no, Nina would not take any disrespect from Connor, and apparently she sided with Angel about the whole sp–, um, s-word thing.

Connor finally rolled out of bed and glanced around. He was still sore. Man, Angel must have lit into him pretty strong. Connor had had bruises from fighting demons that healed quicker. But Nina was the only person who saw, so maybe the others . . .

A cold sweat broke out on Connor's forehead. Oh, no, Spike might have heard. Spike with the whole vampire-super-hearing –oh no! Nina might say nothing, but Spike! Connor had not been around Spike that much, but he doubted Spike was the kind of person to let an awkward situation pass by quietly. And Spike would tell Illyria and Gunn. Illyria, Connor didn't really care about – she wouldn't care who got hurt as long as she came out on top. But Gunn, Connor did not want him to know anything. Despite Gunn and Fred taking care of him the summer Angel slept at the bottom of the ocean, Connor felt like Gunn was a kind of pal. A buddy he could hang with, someone cool and fun, unlike a certain dark-haired vampire Connor knew.

Frowning and pouting and snarling, Connor began to search for something to wear. After a turn or two about the room, he found a pile of clothes in one chair. He began to dress quickly, hoping Nina would not come back in the room. He thought about going to the bathroom to change, but he had already dropped his pajama bottoms and as Angel had not afforded boxers earlier, Connor dressed in the middle of the room, keeping an eye on the door.

The clothes fit, but he disliked them right off. First off, brown baggy shorts that hung over his knees. Probably meant to make him feel like a skateboarder or rock band groupie, but Connor just felt like a kid who hadn't grown in his shorts yet. The shirt had short sleeves and was made of a thick blue material; it had a hood that hung down his back and pockets on the front like a sweatshirt jacket might have. It was long, hanging over the top of his shorts about five inches. White socks and navy running shoes completed the ensemble, making Connor fell all of about ten years old.

He was in college, not middle school! He should get to wear what Angel wore, and no way was Angel dressing like this. Even Spike got that cool leather coat. It would have been hot in LA, but Connor could have taken a little heat to look that cool in the long black duster. Instead he looked like skateboard punk who spend too much time playing video games.

Connor went into the bathroom, just to see if he could do anything with his hair to combat the dumb clothes. He ran his fingers through it, messed it up, combed it straight – hopeless.

The hall was quiet as he stepped out, letting the door click behind him. It occurred to him that he didn't have a key to get back it. Angel hadn't given him a key, but Connor hadn't left anything in the room, except maybe his pride and self-respect. He headed towards the stairs to get to the lobby. He could hear Spike and Angel arguing as he got closer.

"We are not going to start running around like crazy tonight," Angel told Spike, pointing a finger at him.

"Well, excuse me for saying a ruddy word!" Spike threw his hands in the air. "Just because I'm not kneeling on the floor, licking the shoes of our new leader, suppose I should be taken out and flogged. Can't a bloke have an opinion around here without everyone jumping down his throa?."

"Saying we should roam the streets all night to pick up the spoils for ourselves so we can live like royalty is not an opinion," Angel decided. "It's insanity."

"Oooo," Spike made a face, but he didn't offer a retort. He saw Connor out of the corner of his eyes and smirked. "Well, look junior vamp is awake. All dressed up and bright eyed after a paddling and a nap."

Connor took a threatening step towards Spike, but Angel put his hand out.

"Connor, behave," Angel warned. "And that's goes for you, too, Spike."

"Or what?" Spike challenged. "You'll spank me, too?"

Angel crossed his arms, his face set. Spike shrugged, but he turned away, muttering, "Let a fellow wallop you one time in Paris, and he thinks he owns you a hundred year later . . ."

"Where's Gunn?" Connor asked, not hearing Spike.

"He and Nina went to see about food," Angel replied. "Illyria is still getting ready. I told her she had to look like the rest of us and wear normal clothes."

"So she tried to rip his head off," Spike chortled. "Lovely fight – sorry you missed it, li'l tyke. Angel went flying across the room. She was all smug and happy-like, and then Angel told her she could look proper or she could leave. Brought the bint right down, it did. Shouldn't have put up such a fight. Her clothes were right fetching and cost a pretty penny, they did."

"Are you ever going to talk normal?" Angel demanded, whirling on Spike. "You've been here for decades! Learn to speak like an American."

"Up yours!" Spike retorted.

Connor nodded, thinking that was a pretty good American reply.

"What are we going to do?" Connor asked. When he had first entered the room, he had decided it wasn't the time to complain about his clothes. Given the look on Angel's face, Connor thought that had been a wise decision.

"Lay low for tonight," Angel replied. "I'm going out to see what the situation is, now that it's been a day since we destroyed Wolfram and Hart. Which apparently was not destroyed if they made a deal with you. I'll put some feelers out, see if they want to negotiate or kill us. Depending on the answer, we might move on tomorrow to a safer place or relocate."

"We could go find Buffy," Spike's head shot up eagerly. "See if she's had her fill of the Immortal yet. Maybe she'll let us join her team. Heard she has a million Slayers now. One of them has to fancy you, and I'll settled for a few dozen who want to see the handsome side of evil."

"No, we need to have our own team," Angel told him. "Buffy's fight is with raw darkness. Ours is with the more sophisticated part."

"Would be nice to have a few more on our side," Spike muttered.

"We have six – that's a start," Angel replied.

Connor tried to hide his smile. He was one of those six; Angel had included him in the fight against evil.

Spike raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

Steps sounded on the stairs, and Connor glanced up to see who was coming. A brown-haired girl in black pants and a buttoned shirt clasped her hands in front of her.

"Fred!" Connor smiled reflexively.

"No," the woman's face went hard. "Not Fred. I might not have my natural tint or wear my usual garb, but I am still Illyria."

"Can't you look like someone else?" Angel said, his words whispered between cold lips.

"I could," she replied evenly. "But I only kept from looking like your Fred because of Wesley. He is gone now. I will look like Fred if I cannot be myself."

Angel looked ready to argue, looked ready to knock the ex-goddess across the room. But he kept his hands by his side and replied, "Do what you like. Don't draw attention."

Connor turned to Angel. "But Fred –"

"Is no longer a part of this," Angel told him, leaving no room to argue. "Just one more person we couldn't save."

A shadow crossed Spike's face, but he had no time to reply because Nina and Gunn walked into the lobby.

"All right," Nina spoke to Angel. "We talked to the manager. She doesn't want to, but she'll have the staff put what's left of the food on a table in the dining room. There should be enough for the three of us."

"Three?" Angel repeated.

"Yeah, Gunn, Connor, and me," she indicated the three of them. "You and Spike don't eat, and I thought her majesty wouldn't eat, even without the blue."

"I can eat," Illyria said in a frigid voice that did not match Fred's winsome features.

"Regular food or people?" Nina snipped.

"Both, but you do the same, don't you, werewolf?" Illyria replied.

Connor sighed, glancing out the window as they fought. Twilight was falling fast – he had slept longer than seven hours probably.

"I cannot help my condition," Nina argued. "I was bitten, I didn't come into the world by killing an innocent girl."

"Yet, you stand there, ready to slaughter us all," Illyria tilted her head to the side. "The moon will be up soon, and then you will change."

"Oh!" Nina turned to Angel, utterly terrified. "Angel, I forgot. I still have another night left. I have to leave before I kill you all."

"No," Angel remained calm. "You're going out with me tonight."

"What?" the whole group asked in unison, except for Illyria who looked bored.

"I need someone at my side who could be a threat, someone to keep our enemies from attacking me. Any creep who sees a raging werewolf at my side will think twice before starting a fight."

"I could scare people off," Spike volunteered.

"Yes, but I wanted a physical threat, not an insane dye-job one," Angel replied smoothly.

Spike gave an annoyed little shrug and ran a fond hand over his platinum-blond hair.

"I might attack you," Nina worried. "Once I turn, I can't remember anything. It starts off as this anger, and I feel like I'm spiraling into a temper tantrum that I can't avoid or stop. My rage grows and grows until I can't stand to stay inside my own head, and I wake up the next morning, sometimes covered in blood."

"I can handle you," Angel told her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm not going to let you get away from me, and werewolf or no, vampires have a pretty bad temper, too."

She did not seem convinced, but Angel turned to the rest of the group.

"Gunn, I want you to guard this hotel. See who enters – who leaves. Anyone puts up a fight to your questions, kill them. Tonight is not the time for leniency. We may have well started a war. Spike, you go to the sewers. See if anyone's lurking around, or if anyone's left. Lorne was our last connection with the good demons. I don't know where we stand now."

"Sure thing," Spike said, uncharacteristically agreeable.

"Illyria, you back up Gunn," Angel told the ex-goddess. "You hear something usual or think Gunn's met a problem, rip them to shreds."

"My pleasure," she smiled, a cruel smile on her gentle face.

"What about me?" Connor spoke up when he realized that Angel was not giving him an order.

"You," Angel frowned slightly, "stay in the hotel. We'll use you as a base, call in every so often. But you're not leaving the hotel, and I want you to go to sleep by one."

"I slept all day," Connor began, but Angel shook his head.

"Well, you obviously needed it. You will not step foot outside this hotel. I mean it – no sneaking out, no wandering the sewers, no running the rooftops. I will know if you try to leave, and if you do . . ." Angel gave Connor a very cold, hard look. "Do not try it," he warned.

Connor flushed, angry at his father's patronizing and sternness, but he said nothing.

"Moon's almost out," Gunn observed.

Nina took a step back, and she clenched her teeth together. "It's coming," she said hoarsely.

"Spike, see if you can round up any weapons," Angel instructed. "Anything laying around the sewers, get it."

"Oh!" Nina cried, knotting her hands into fists. Her face grew angry, the expression of a woman in a fit of temper, crazy with angry, betrayal, fury, and hatred.

"Gunn, same goes for you," Angel continued. "See something we can use – take it."

Nina let out a scream as she stumbled backwards. Claws emerged from her slender fingers; hair sprouted on her neck and cheeks. Her mouth and nose extended in a furry snout, and her teeth grew long and pointed into razor-like fangs. In one sharp motion, she tore her clothes right off and stepped out of them in full-body fur.

"Connor," Angel gave him a stern look again, "do not leave the hotel."

Connor could not take his eyes off Nina or rather the werewolf that stood where Nina had been. Even covered by shaggy fur, Connor could see the womanly curves of her body. He wondered if he should be looking, but then the monster looked at him. Cruel yellow eyes shone out under a heavy brow, and the dark lips pulled back to reveal even more teeth.

With a snarl, the werewolf leapt for him. Connor instinctively jumped back, but Angel was already there. He had changed, and the vampire face looked almost as fierce as the werewolf.

The werewolf attacked, but Angel hurtled her to the floor.

"Come on," he yelled. "Outside. We're hunting tonight!"

Connor stood in mute amazement as Angel pushed and kicked and beat the werewolf towards the door of the hotel. Connor didn't understand why the manager didn't come running, but nothing expensive had broken yet; Angel was careful about that.

The vampire got the werewolf outside, into the street and under the faint moonlight. He kept bullying the monster, ordering her to follow him and not fight. True to the monster's nature, the werewolf couldn't seem to obey, snapping at his hands and lunging for his throat.

Down the street they went, fighting and grappling until they moved out of sight.

"What a bunch of Nancy boys," Spike observed. He pulled a cigarette out of his mouth and lit it with a black lighter. "So much drama – pulling each other's pigtails. Should have a proper shag and get on with it. Well, I'm off to the sewers. You be a good boy until Daddy gets back."

Spike sauntered off towards the back of the hotel, leaving Connor to stand in the lobby with Gunn and Illyria.

"Well," Gunn said in careless voice, "let's go have dinner."


	4. Chapter 4 A New Development

Finally, after months of waiting, here is another _Angel_ chapter. I'm trying to write a chapter a day on all my stories so hopefully I'll be getting to back to Peter Pan and Batman. Grad school is still going strong, but I have cut out all TV except for _Supernatural_ so I should be getting a little more done.

As always, I enjoy the comments about my writing and I love to hear from all of you.

Disclaimer: I don't own them or make any money.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Connor followed Gunn into the dining room. Illyria was close behind, her movements as Fred stiff and unnatural. No one was in the dining room, but a small assortment of food lay on one table: cold cuts of meat, cheese, bread, and salad.

Connor and Gunn got some food and sat down at a nearby table to eat. Illyria sneered at the food.

"Human waste," she scoffed. "Nothing natural." She grabbed at the arrangement of flowers and took all the blossoms. She began eating them, tearing the flowers apart with her teeth.

"Should we stop her?" Connor asked worriedly.

"People can eat flowers," Gunn shrugged, biting into his thick sandwich.

"Yeah, but those flowers are plastic," Connor pointed out.

"If she don't know the difference, it won't hurt her," Gunn decided.

Connor looked at him carefully.

"What?" Gunn asked, still chewing.

"Are you forgetting?" Connor asked bluntly.

"Forgetting?" Gunn deliberately looked away.

"You know – the law stuff."

"Oh," Gunn's head shot up, "the black guy starts using vernacular American English, and suddenly he's from the hood."

"No, not that –" Connor protested, but Gunn refused to listen.

"I'll have you know the lawyer thing is permanent now. I signed for something to come into Wolfram and Hart, and that something killed Fred. So, yes, I have the lawyer thing, and I always will, but I don't want to talk about it."

Connor flinched. This was not the Gunn he remembered, the Gunn that he used to talk to for hours about important stuff and dumb stuff, too.

"Sometimes, I like to use the old home talk," Gunn continued. "It reminds me of where I came from, why I started on this whole fight, why I signed up to fight. And you pull any stunts with me, I'm not afraid to take a page out of your dad's book and tan your hide, too."

Connor's eyes grew wide, and he glanced to Illyria to see if she would threaten him as well. But Illyria was spitting pieces of chewing plastic into a coffee cup.

"These humans have no idea of the right way to live," she declared, sitting down in the chair next to Gunn. "I find their food unsatisfying."

Connor wasn't sure what to say to Gunn. When he had decided to come back, he saw himself having the same relationships with everyone that he had had before, maybe with a little less drama. Cordy wasn't there, and he no longer wanted to kill Angel, so Connor had seen a lot of hanging out with the team. Yeah, they would fight evil, but for the most part, he would be one of the gang, younger than the others, but still an equal.

It had been a great idea until Angel went on his power trip and got all alpha male and strict father bent. Even after that awful punishment, Connor had felt certain someone would stand up for him. Fred would have, had she been there, but Connor doubted that Illyria cared what happened to him. Wesley might have objected, but he hadn't made it past the grim night. Spike – well, Connor didn't expect another vampire to feel anything for him. But Connor had been sure Gunn would have something to say about Angel punishing him so roughly. However, Fred's death had changed Gunn.

Connor glumly decided that everything had changed, and not to his advantage.

"No!" Gunn suddenly exclaimed. "Don't eat the napkins!"

"I hate this," Illyria declared as she flung the cloth napkin to the floor. "You humans are so pathetic yet selfish as you expect all creatures to understand your strange customs. You put all these things before me, yet expect me to know what I can and cannot eat. Arrogant presumption for such pitiful creatures!"

"Humans know what they can eat and what to leave alone," Gunn told her. "They're taught what to eat as little kids so they know as adults."

"He did not," Illyria pointed a finger at Connor. "I heard he tried to eat garbage when he first came back, though I do not know exactly what garbage means."

"I didn't," Connor protested. "I knew enough not to eat trash."

"I was not speaking to you," Illyria told him. "Angel would not like you yelling at me."

"I'm not yelling," Connor objected. "I was just saying what happened."

"And now you disagree," Illyria coolly regarded Connor. "I will tell Angel that you spoke so, and he will hit your back as punishment again."

Connor's cheeks flamed red, but Gunn shook his head. "No, that's not how it works, Illyria."

"I heard Angel hit him," she turned to Gunn. "You told me it was not brutal torture, only punishment. Was that not the truth?"

Gunn looked awkward and tried not to glance Connor's way. "Yeah, but you can't threaten Connor with it."

"Why not?" she raised her shin slightly, a cold look on Fred's normally sunny face. "You just did the same because he asked a question about the way you talked. You did not like his answer, so you threatened him and he went silent. Why can I not do the same?"

She made a good argument. Connor glanced to Gunn, eager to hear what he would say.

"It's different with me," Gunn persisted. "I knew Connor as a baby and I was here when he came back. I took care of him when Angel disappeared –"

"I'm over eighteen," Connor interrupted. "I take care of myself."

"And," Gunn gave Connor a look that told him to be quiet, "when we realized that Connor had dumped Angel in the bottom of the ocean, I kept Connor at the hotel until Angel came back. And I was with him through the whole Cordy/Beast mess. I earned the right to tell him what to do because my loyalties belong to Angel. You took over Fred's body and stayed with us because you had nowhere else to go. It's not the same. You don't get the right to boss Connor around until you've fought, bled, and suffered for this side, and that is the end of it."

Gunn was a pretty good lawyer, Connor thought as he watched Illyria for a reaction.

"I fought last night," she said simply. "I fought for Weasley. I might have died for him."

"Then you're on a good start," Gunn told her. "Give it four more years, and you'll have it."

She moved the corners of her mouth a little, almost smiling.

Connor thought about making a smart remark that by then no one could tell him what to do, but he stopped himself in time. No reason to tick Gunn off.

Connor finished his food and pushed his plate away. He wondered what they would do next for the rest of the night.

Connor thought he might still be a little tired, but he had slept the day away and he saw no reason to suggest that he would go back to bed so early.

"Can we go out?" Illyria asked. "It is not late."

"Angel wanted us to stay here," Gunn objected. "I'm going to start making calls, see where Wolfram and Hart landed after this fight. We took out some major players, but I'm guessing the second tier of evil will be up and coming. These new guys will want power and be willing to pay for it, so we'll look like heroes to them and they'll want us to work for them."

"Is that how it works?" Connor asked, careful to keep his voice respectful. "We take out the greatest evil and the second greatest takes their place?"

"Of course," Gunn took a sip of water. "Evil never stops fighting, so we can't stop either. I'm going to the lobby to make the calls for a few hours. That way I can stand guard here and keep some kind of base in case Angel calls for backup."

"And me?" Illyria demanded. "Am I to sit like a stone and do nothing? I want to help, too."

"Why don't you go out on the street and search for weapons?" Gunn suggested. "You can take care of yourself – I saw you punch Angel this afternoon. But only go a few streets out, and come back every hour so you will be here in case I need help."

"I will," Illyria nodded.

"Change to look like a homeless person," Gunn advised. "That way no one will stop you."

Illyria blinked, and then she morphed. She lost Fred's pretty face and wave hair and turned into an old woman with dirty hair, filthy clothes, and missing teeth.

Connor blanched, surprised that she could morph into anyone. He thought she would could only turn into her host's body, but apparently Illyria could become anyone she liked.

"You'll come in handy later," Gunn promised, impressed at her morphing. "Get going, but remember to keep checking in."

"Yes," she croaked, her old lips pinching together. She stood and began to march towards the door.

"Move slower," Gunn told her. "You got to act the part, not just look it."

Obligingly, she slowed and began to shuffle towards the door.

"Weird, but it'll do," Gunn shrugged, picking up his glass to finish the rest of his water.

"What about me?" Connor asked. "I want to do something. I know," he rushed to say before Gunn could object, "that Angel told me to stay here, but I hate to sit here and be useless. Surely I can do something."

Gunn hesitated, and then he leaned over the table towards Connor.

"What exactly did you agree to do for Wolfram and Hart?"

Connor swallowed, afraid to reveal how much he had done. He hadn't been quite polite to the Powers, and he had fought his way there to talk to them, nearly getting cut in half more than once. "I-I said I wanted my old life erased. It wasn't real and I wanted my fake family to go back to the way they were. So I asked the Powers, and they said they could do nothing because Angel made the deal. I told them I was willing to make a new deal. I offered myself up – oh, no my soul," Connor hurried to assure as Gunn's eyes widened suddenly.

"You're sure?" Gunn demanded. "Because if you did, we got bigger problems than you think."

"No, they asked for it, but I said no. I said I would be willing to work for them, but just work. I said my soul is my own, and I'm not giving that away. They seemed interested in the work thing, and I said I wanted to do something good for the company. They gave me a contract, and I read and signed it, just in time too because then you guys attacked. The moment that happened, I found myself on the streets, and I started fighting until you found me."

"What did the contract say?"

"It said I had to work as Vice President for Wolfram and Hart for the next twenty years, breakable only by death. I have a copy of it in the pockets of my old pants."

"Go get it," Gunn advised.

"I don't have the key to the room," Connor realized.

Fifteen minutes, after getting a key from the manager who still looked crazy with worry, Gunn parked Connor in the room chair and sat down to read the contract.

Connor waited nervously in the chair, chewing on his fingernails and trying not to squirm while Gunn went over every word silently. Part of Connor wished he had shown the contract to Angel, but another part of him felt relieved that Gunn read it. Gunn probably knew more about contracts than Angel did, and he would know how to react better than Angel. Connor had the sinking feeling that some of the wording such as "non-negotiable" and "absolutely binding" would have freaked Angel out more than Gunn.

Gunn finally finished, and he lowered the papers, shaking his head. "Lucky," Gunn announced. "That's what you are - lucky. Most of the stuff is worded very vaguely so what you actually do can be debated. But it could have been much more serious. Connor, I want you to know – Connor, look at me – you do not sign anything else without me there. Nothing, not one single document without me there."

Connor stared into Gunn's eyes, almost scared by the intensity he saw there.

"I don't care if they want you to sign off on buying more toner for the printers," Gunn continued. "You never sign another paper without me there. If this document had said that you work for them indefinitely, you would be going to hell and working for them there."

Connor flinched, the blood draining from his face.

"If this contract said that any attempt of withdrawal would be met with termination, they could have killed you if you ever mentioned trying to get out of it. I know Angel is busy with leading this team, but if he had understood exactly how serious this is, he would have done more than whack you a few times last night. He would never let you leave his side. So you understand, no more signing anything."

"Yes, sir," the words slipped from Connor's lips before he knew he had said them.

"Good," Gunn nodded. "Well, I think if you are going to be a vice president of a law corporation, you should know something about said corporation. Therefore, I will make a list of things for you to research."

"There aren't any books here," Connor said, hoping he sounded it was a genuine objection rather than an excuse not to study.

"We'll find you a laptop with internet connection," Gunn told him. "You can study until one. Sound good?"

It didn't sound like the most fun, but Connor nodded along. He had signed up for it after all.

------

"We are never going to get anywhere if you keep trying to eat me," Angel sighed as he jumped out of the way of the werewolf's claws. "It's an hour to dawn, and we're almost at the hotel so – hey! That's my hand, not a chew toy." He yanked his hand back before she could bite it.

The werewolf growled, but the sound was weak and tired.

Angel glanced at her, wondering if she had been beaten down too much. All night they had been finding people and talking to them. Well, Angel had been taking – the werewolf tended to snarl and snap and lung for the people and Angel had to hurl her back. He reflected that this was the first woman he had ever been so violent with as Angel. Angelus had – Angelus ripped women apart and enjoyed, but Angel had never. And he felt guilty about it, but he couldn't figure out how better to control her other than pushing her around.

But he had gotten information. Turning on his vampire face and having a raging werewolf next to him seemed to help loose people's tongues, human and demon alike.

As they neared the street of the hotel, Angel began to go over the information he had gathered. Hours of questioning had gained him the knowledge that all the powers of good and evil were shaken up, but they were both fighting back. Everyone was uneasy and confused, but all were ready to jump into action at the least provocation.

Angel blinked, realizing he was alone. He whirled around, ready to run after the werewolf. Instead, he jerked to a stop as he saw the werewolf in the middle of the street. She was looking at him and whining softly, seeming to shrink smaller and smaller.

He glanced up at the sky. The moon was sinking, and dawn seemed not that far behind.

The werewolf moaned pitifully, and then she changed. Her fur disappeared and her monstrous face drew back into a woman's, and she stood naked in the street, trembling.

Angel hurried over to her, taking off his long black coat as he went. He reached her and wrapped the coat around her shoulders.

"Th-thanks," she whispered, shaking and grabbing onto his arm for balance. "Where – where are we?"

"Almost to the hotel," Angel replied.

"Good," Nina nodded, still gripping his arm. "Did anything happen?"

"I got the information I needed," Angel confirmed. "You helped. You scared almost everyone into talking."

"Good," she smiled weakly. She looked up at him and gently reached to touch the scratches on his face. "Did I do that?"

"A little bit," Angel said kindly. "But it's fine – I heal quickly. Let's get back to the hotel and see how the others are."

She tied the coat around her waist, but before they could walk any farther, she stopped. "Angel . . ."

"What?" he asked softly.

"You and me," she glanced down at her bare feet before meeting his eyes. "Are we – anything?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I was so sure I would die last night. I couldn't think beyond it."

"And now?" she seemed so hesitant so uncertain. He wanted to smile; minutes ago she had been a monster ready to rip his head off. Now, she looked vulnerable and almost shy.

"You don't remember," Angel told her, "but I was pushing you around all evening. At one point, I knocked you into a wall and you walked crooked down the rest of the street until you regained your balance."

"I don't remember it," she confessed. "But I'm glad you didn't let me hurt anyone."

"Then I guess for now it's just us," he decided. "You and me."

"Vampire and werewolf," she smiled, taking his hand in hers. "I think we make a good team."

Angel thought for a second. Nina was no Buffy; she lacked the beautiful innocence and youthful determination of Buffy. Nina wasn't Cordy either, but somehow Angel thought it fine that Nina was just Nina.

"We do," he decided. "But I'm warning you things could get crazy. I still work for Wolfram and Hart, and we got Gunn with his lawyer guilt, and Illyria is an ex-goddess, and Spike's a pain always, and now Connor –"

"Connor's good," Nina interrupted. "He was just misguided for a while. He'll be fine now."

"I don't feel like I can ever take my eyes off him," Angel objected. "You didn't know him before. He was out of control, crazy with grief and hurt and anger and a whole mess of things I'll never understand. You don't understand Nina – I spend three months at the bottom of the ocean, hungry and hallucinating. I was unconscious half the time, and I couldn't tell reality from my dreams. I wanted to kill him, and I hated myself for feeling that way and I hated him for making me feel that."

He felt her hand tighten around his.

"I won't let that happen to you again," she promised. "I swear, Angel, no one will ever do that to you. I'm watching over you now, and I'll keep you safe."

His smile grew. "That's usually my line."

"Say whatever you like, but I'm serious. And I know you're thinking I'm just a little blond woman who couldn't save herself much less anyone else, but I promise you," she leaned her head against his arm, "I have a monster inside me."

"Now that I believe," Angel said as they walked up to the hotel together. "I'll trust that monster to keep me and Connor in line."

"Grrrr!" Nina growled softly.

And they walked into the hotel together as the morning sun started to rise behind them.


End file.
